


shadow's song

by stardustpilot



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Assassin AU, Assassin's Guild, Black Swan - Freeform, Exillium, Gen, Neverseen - Freeform, Swearing, Violence, dark au, villains au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26680120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustpilot/pseuds/stardustpilot
Summary: Wicked eyes. A flash silver. A shiny gun in twirling in slim fingers.Keefe spots him right away.Shadow leans against one of the barstools, watching with a sort of lazy indifference as the numbers on the board climb higher and higher.The names of big people with bigger names and wallets fatter than their greed for cash. And next to them, the obscenely high bids for assassination.Keefe doesn’t like the gray area he’s in right now. The Wastelands are neutral territory, but he knows these kinds of people, Shadow’s people, the kind that are loyal to no one, could turn the tables in a change of cards or a check paid right. He doesn’t like that he only knows three things about Shadow. One: Shadow isn’t his real name. Two: He isn’t afraid to play dirty. Three: He’s the best assassin in the Wastelands.
Kudos: 8





	shadow's song

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever get over dark aus? never. :)

Wicked eyes.

A flash silver.

A shiny gun in twirling in slim pale fingers.

Keefe spots him right away.

Shadow leans against one of the barstools, watching with a sort of lazy indifference as the numbers on the board climb higher and higher.

The names of big people with bigger names and wallets fatter than their greed for cash. And next to them, the obscenely high bids for assassination.

Keefe doesn’t like the gray area he’s in right now. The Wastelands are neutral territory, but he knows these kinds of people, Shadow’s people, the kind that are loyal to no one, could turn the tables in a change of cards or a check paid right. He doesn’t like that he only knows three things about Shadow. One: Shadow isn’t his real name. Two: He isn’t afraid to play dirty. Three: He’s the best assassin in the Wastelands.

Number three is the unfortunate reason why Keefe finds himself here.

“Why don’t we just kill him ourselves?” Keefe had whined to Forkle, nicking the table with the edge of his knife.

Forkle just scoffed. “We’re stealthy, Mr. Sencen, but our numbers would be decimated at any exposure. We can’t afford to get our hands dirty.”

“What are you suggesting?” Sophie asked. “You want to hire an assassin?”

Mr. Forkle hummed. “Not just an assassin,” he’d said dreamily. “I want the best one in the Wastelands.”

Hence Keefe’s present situation.

The dim lights reflects Shadow’s gun as he twirls it in his fingers. It’s shiny, sleek, and every much as deadly as he is.

Other assassins, less established, chatter amongst themselves as they huddle around the board. Some of their phrases reach Keefe and leave his gut churning.

“What’s worse, knife to the gut or bullet in the head?”

“Definitely the gut. Bullet’s fast and painless.”

“Bet Valencia will pay me double for his head in a bag?”

But unlike them, Shadow stays as silent as ever, his cold gaze raking over the board. No one dares to step near him, leaving a strange sort of dissonance between two groups.

He hasn’t noticed Keefe, at least.

Keefe wonders what Forkle’s thinking. Alvar is about as hard to pin as a needle in hay, so what makes him think that this Wastelands assassin is going to be able to find him?

Keefe runs over a quick inventory check as he waits for Shadow make a move. Two knives strapped to his thighs. Another in his right sleeve. Two throwing stars hidden above his shoulders. A gun in his boot that he doesn’t really want to fire tonight.

He’s prepared.

Well, about as prepared as you can be when confronting the deadliest assassin in the Wastelands.

Keefe snaps to attention when he realizes that Shadow’s moved.

He’s headed towards the door.

Keefe flicks his gaze to the board before following. His photographic memory allows him to parse through the numbers as he stalks--inconspicuously, he hopes--after Shadow.

His breath hitches at the first number. Damn. They’ve got Foster going for 15,400,000 notes. Forkle is a close second at 10,750,000. The Black Swan are gonna be in big trouble if their two headed snake has both its ends cut off. If there wasn’t a contingency plan in place, there should be now.

Keefe takes a deep breath of cold night air. He feels his shoulders loosen at the prospect of being more in his element now, out of that musty place. He’d felt suffocated in there, surrounded by ruthless killers and disloyal thieves.

He’d felt naked in that place. Now he feels like he has the cover of the night to hide under.

But the problem is that Shadow is gone.

Keefe fingers the knife strapped to his leg as he turns his head this way and that, trying to figure out which way Shadow went.

Forkle is going to kill him if he found out Shadow got away from right under Keefe’s nose.

He pulls the knife into his hand, picks a side of the street, and follows the cracked path.

“This is fine,” he murmurs to himself.

A streetlight flickers ahead of him and Keefe does not jump like a frightened child.

“Get your head on right, Sencen,” he whispers, shrinking away from the light. “You’ve done this a hundred times. Just find him and go.”

Keefe’s too busy trying to calm himself down fro, the silence of the street that when suddenly there’s a shock of liquid lightning down his arm that has his fingers spasming, the surprise makes him lose his grip on his knife.

The blade clatters to the ground in a cacophony of clangs in the quiet night. When Keefe looks up, Shadow is standing there, half hidden in the darkness of the alley.

“What are you doing?” Keefe asks, clutching his arm.

Shadow doesn’t speak.

When Keefe dares to step closer, he hears rather the telltale click of a gun falling from safety.

Keefe holds his uninjured arm up. He swallows. “I’m not here to fight.”

There’s a laugh. “Then why have you been following me all night?”

Shit. He’d noticed.

Of course he’d noticed.

You don’t get yourself the name of the best assassin in the Wastelands by not paying attention to what’s going on around you.

Keefe briefly thinks it’s unfortunate that he’s going to end this way. He didn’t even have a bounty on his head. “Are you going to kill me?”

Then Shadow yanks him into the darkness and Keefe momentarily is blinded by the pain in his shoulder to realize what’s about to happen.

The kid’s hand goes over his face the moment he sees the gun.

It’s laughable how much of a Swan this one is.

The Neverseen aren’t afraid of death. They bathe in blood, crave the smell of iron, rejoice at the sound of a shot sinking into skin.

Tam wonders what he wants. Maybe it’s a bounty. Maybe he’s here with an offer. But there’s no way in hell this little kid with his hand over his face and his shoulders hunching inwards like a scared crow, could offer him a paycheck larger than what that Forkle is going for. Maybe he should kill him now to get it over with. Or maybe he should listen to him. What a ridiculous idea.

Tam crosses his arms and waits for him to speak.

A moment of silence passes before he seems to realize that he’s not getting shot. The kid lowers his arms.

And then he smiles at Tam and--

Does he have a death wish?

Tam frowns at him and the smile slips away.

“My name is Keefe Sencen,” he starts. “I’m with the Black Swan.”

A Swan. Just as he’d expected.

Tam’s frown pulls deeper. He recognizes the name. The kid had a scandal a few years back. Dating one of his cohorts. Right, Sophie Foster. Her head’s going for a pretty penny as well. He wonders how much he’d get for this one.

He pauses, like he’s waiting for Tam to introduce himself.

Like hell he’ll give his name.

His eyes lose their shine when he doesn’t say anything. He rubs his shoulder self-consciously, perhaps realizing for the first time that he’s in Tam’s territory and completely out of his element. “The Black Swan are looking for an assassin.”

Tam’s eyebrows shoot up. The Black Swan aren’t known for their violence. Hell, all the names on the board, Forkle, Foster, Vacker, everyone knows those bounties are funded by the Neverseen.

“It’s gotta be a secret,” Keefe continues. He scuffs his shoe against the pavement. “We need it done quickly. And quietly.”

Tam mulls it over. Kid just gave him a powerful secret. A dangerous one. One that could stir an outrage if revealed. The cards are in his hands.

“What’s your price?” He whispers.

Tam twirls his gun. “Who are you looking for?”

Keefe startles at the sound of his voice, like he hadn’t expected a reply. “Alvar Vacker.”

Fell right into his trap.

“What’s your price?” He asks again. Some desperation seeps into his voice. Rookie mistake. “We have a truck--”

“140.”

He gives him a relieved smile. “What, thousand?”

Tam leans forward and grins, predatory. “Million.”

Keefe sputters. “Shadow, that’s--”

Tam shrugs and turns to the entrance of the alley, where light spills in. “I could just run and tell everyone what you’ve told me.”

Keefe swallows.

Tam can see the wheels turning in his head.

And then the kid lunges at him.


End file.
